


One Word

by Zhie



Series: Bunniverse [51]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:25:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: A love story in Valinor that was never meant to be.





	1. Erestor (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> I first started writing this a very long time ago, before I knew that I was eventually going to pair Erestor up with Glorfindel, and all of the Bunniverse things after, and things before that I won't spoiler if you're reading these in order, darlings, and all of that. Consequently, the final chapter was added after the fact of the rest, and it has since been edited from the original. Enjoy!
> 
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In the countless years I have lived, I have written the tales of much of what happened in the time since the Elves journeyed back into Middle Earth. I watched as Rivendell was built, and as Gondolin fell. I saw Beleriand burn, and Lindon rise. I knew the three who carried the rings, and the two who carried them after, and where they eventually rested. I have fought in battles for power and in battles for glory, and I have sat for days watching grass grow in the valley when it pleased me. I have few regrets.

She was one.

This is not a story of an elf who performed a great deed, such as the slaying of the Balrog by the Captain of the House of the Golden Flower. This is not the story of sacrifice to pride, such as one would hear told in days of old about an Elven King who fought alongside Dwarves whom he had imprisoned less than a month before. This is not a story of an Half-elf who was wise and saw to it to call a great council to decide the fate of all races of Middle Earth.

This is a story about love, the love I lost, and how one word cost me that love.

Stay.

Not what you were expecting, was it? Just one word. Stay.

That word was my doom for three ages and beyond. I asked her to stay - nay, I begged her to stay. She left me with not a tear in her eye nor a pain in her heart.

It was long years before I heard her voice again.


	2. Nerwen

For many years, elflings found my garden to be a delight to play in, and Nerwen was no exception. When I first saw her that morning, she was waiting behind the hedges of my garden with hopes of catching a pair of young elflings off guard. She herself was naught more than a few years older than the two she was hunting, and I watched with interest from my porch as she set her trap, knowing the pair had a penchant for ruining my daffodils and chrysanthemums. As the two elflings walked down the path, she waited until the right moment and pulled a string she had tied to a small tree on the other side of the path, effectively tripping the elflings and sending them into a puddle of mud.

I think she would never have been caught, for her laughter was well-concealed, except that she herself tripped over the watering can she had used to make the mud. I was unable to reach the trio until all three were covered in large amounts of wet earth, grass, twigs, and slime. "Enough of this!" I shouted. "Find another garden to terrorize, and leave me to peace!"

The blond elfling - the youngest of the three, pointed his chin and sniffed his disdain at being caught, and answered with a loud, "She started it!"

"I care not, Thranduil Oropherion, I am not one of your parents, and thus reserve judging and sentencing to them! Out of my garden, if you please, and if it does not please, I shall remove you myself!" I could have rightly spanked all three if I truly wished, for in Valinor anyone's elflings were everyone's elflings, and were raised in part by all of the elves. My bark is much worse than my bite, however, and I also have a soft spot for those elves who only reach my knee. I believe they suspected this, but yet being unsure, Thranduil hung his head.

"We like your garden, sir, that is why we come here to play."

"You do not swat us with your rake if we trample the flowers on accident," added his dark-haired companion. "And it truly is an accident when it happens!"

"Ehtele Ecthelion-"

"Just Ecthelion," he pointed out to me.

I nodded, respecting his wish. "Just Ecthelion, if it truly were an accident, it would not happen weekly."

He pouted accordingly, and I looked to the ellethling with the silver-gold hair. "To lay in wait like a cat about to pounce mice is not a very lady-like thing for you to do."

Had I known the outcome of my words, I would have sent them on their way sooner. I had not noticed her trembling lip or the tears in her eyes, but the moment I finished my sentence, she let go a wail and clutched her muddied fists to her face as she sobbed.

"Nerwen, we did not mean to upset you," said Thranduil, truly looking ashamed.

"Yes. Had we known the frog was going to hop out of your porridge and onto you-"

"Out of my garden and to your homes!" I pointed in the direction of their residences and picked up the nearest item, the watering can, and waved it at them. "If I hear of either of you harming another defenseless creature, be it animal or elf, I will not stop myself from striking you!" The threat was idle, but the elflings had not seen such fury from me, and scurried quickly away. For good measure, I threw the watering can at them, but only after I knew they were too far away for it to hit them.

Picking up the young one and carrying her to the house of my neighbor, I only realized after knocking on their door what a frightful mess I was going to look.

"Erestor! It is quite pleasant to see you this fine day." Cirdan looked me up and down and said, "Enjoying your garden, I see!"

"Cirdan, a good day to you. I have had three trespassers this day already and this one..." I did not need to explain further as the lady of the house came outdoors with us and clicked her tongue when she saw the state that Nerwen was in.

"Come, bring her into the house and I shall draw a bath," Nenua said as she led me into the house. The ellethling was quieting now, but she still sniffled and hiccuped and hid her face against my chest. "You can put her down there; I think you will want to clean yourself up from the looks of things."

I nodded, setting Nerwen onto the wooden chair Nenua had pulled away from the table. "I will return shortly to take her back to her parents," I said, but Nenua waved this notion away.

"Let us see how she is when she is clean," Nenua suggested, pouring a goodly amount of bathing oil into the basin that she was filling with water. "I will send my husband for you if you are needed."

"Thank you, Nenua," I said, and after briefly speaking with Cirdan about pleasantries such as the weather and our respective gardens, though mine looked more and more like a brick pit as the days went by, I took myself home for a bath and allowed myself to soak and relax and forget about silly things like elflings fighting in my garden.

When I finally pulled myself from my watery reverie, I decided to give up on my work for the day and set to fixing a meal for myself. There was nothing extravagant to be found, simple bread and jam from the market and fresh fruits I had brought in from the garden earlier. As I exited to pull up water from the well, I saw Cirdan down the path, leading Nerwen toward my house. Her eyes watched the ground as she walked, looking as if she was on a death march as she came up the way. I had retrieved the water while they made their approach and held the pitcher while standing on my porch as they came up

"Erestor, once more, it is pleasant to see you," Cirdan said. I nodded and we spoke cordially again. Though our conversations may have seemed boring to some, I think we both enjoyed the chance to speak to another elf without cause for debate. So many spoke of dark thoughts, and it puzzled both of us, for we were simple elves really. Our philosophy was so similar, we soon found we had naught to speak of with the exception of weather, for his hobby of sailing depended on such, as did my plants, for it was my task to tend the orchard that spread out behind my house.

Perhaps I should have made that more clear. I was not a scholar during those years in Valinor, though I did delight in the knowledge drawn from books and from speaking with others. My calling, or so I had thought at the time, was gardening. Put simply, I was a farmer, but all in Valinor in the early times were respected, no matter their rank or culture, and for this reason, my early years in Valinor after the awkwardness of childhood were in some ways the best years of my life.

When we had finished speaking, Cirdan looked down expectantly at the little elleth. Head bowed in shame, she said in a small voice, "I am sorry I flooded your path and ruined your garden."

"There is no harm done that cannot be fixed," I replied, and even now as I glanced at the path, I saw that it was dry once more.

"I woll not ever come to your garden ever again. I promise," she said solemnly.

"That would truly be a shame," I said, "for I happen to like it when my garden is enjoyed by others."

Nerwen nodded, and Cirdan clasped my shoulder. "I must return home, I do not wish to be late for supper. Nenua said you would return Nerwen to her parents?"

I nodded and said, "I myself was just about to eat." I looked at the ellethling and asked her, "When do your parents expect you home?"

She shrugged and answered, "Whenever I get there."

This was not uncommon, for many elves did not worry about their young ones in the safety of Valinor. So many of us watched the youths, and we did not need worry for them. "Come inside with me, then, we can share the meal and I will return you afterwards."

Nerwen hesitated - I suppose there were a good many tales about the wicked looking farmer and that he ate elflings or something to that effect - but she took up a bold stance and willed herself to enter the house. Rolling my eyes at Cirdan, but smiling, and bid him a good day and came inside.

"Where is everything?" she asked as we entered the kitchen.

"Everything what?" I queried back, setting the pitcher on the middle of the table.

"Everything everything. Your furniture, your carpets, your... your... stuff..."

I chuckled. My home was that of a bachelor - simple and adequate. There was very little fanciness to it, though I always thought it a cozy and comfortable place. Pulling a simple chair with no decoration to speak of away from the table for her I said, "This *is* all of my "stuff"."

"Oh." She did not press further, and sat down. Taking the linen napkin from the table, she unfolded it and placed it on her lap and folded her hands in front of her, keeping her elbows from the table.

This puzzled me slightly, how the sneaky little girl I had seen traipsing around with crowds of elflings could be the same sweet looking little elleth that was politely asking me for a glass of water. After I finished setting things up on the table and sat down across from her, she remained silent unless spoken to, and her answers were courteous. Not a crumb strayed from her, and she did not dribble water or lick her fingers as so often I have seen young elves do -- as even I recalled doing to the disdain of my mother!

Through the meal, I had only come to one time when I found need to use her name, and when I did, her nose crinkled. "Is something wrong?" I then asked, thinking she had bit into an unripe fruit.

Shaking her head, she answered, "I wish I was not called Nerwen."

"It is your name, is it not?"

"It is one of them," she replied. "But I do not like it."

"Why not?"

Nerwen set down her bread to keep her fingers from fiddling with her food and folded her hands. "I do not like it because of what it means. But I do not want to be a lady, and so, my brothers and playmates call me that."

"I think you will be shocked to know you are a lady, though a very young one, and sometimes a very messy one, a lady you are."

"I know that," she sighed. "But I want to be a ruler of a realm some day, and Thranduil says that elleths can only be queens and that queens do not rule but instead stand by the king and look pretty."

"If we all listened to what Thranduil said, can you imagine the state of things in Valinor?" This produced a small smile from the ellethling, and I continued, saying, "I think anyone can do anything they really, really wish if they set their mind to the task."

"How am I to be a queen with a name so foul as Nerwen?"

I smirked. "It is not a foul name."

"You do not know what it means," she pouted.

"In fact, I do know. Your mother gave you that name when she saw how tall you were, and how strong and proud of an elleth you would be. I do not think she intended it to be foul."

"You do not know what it is like to have such a foul name," she answered.

Here I smiled, for I do not think she quite even knew my name, for most elflings would call me by 'sir' or by 'lord' as they did with so many of the grown elves. "My name is Eresse."

Nerwen blinked and said, "I do not quite know the meaning of that."

"It means 'lonely and stubborn'."

"That is terrible!" she cried out. She fell silent and then said, "That is a horrible thing to name someone."

"Not if it is true."

For some time we continued in silence, and then a thought occurred to me. "Your father gave you a name when you were born, why not use that name?"

"I have been called Nerwen so long, it will not be easy to change it."

"Well, no, it will not be easy. It is not impossible, though. Artanis."

She tried to keep from smiling, but failed. "If I asked everyone to call me Artanis, it would work." Her face fell. "Oh, but some will not, they will just keep calling me Nerwen for spite."

"What you will need to do, then, is refuse to answer them."

"But..." Artanis looked upon me with a slightly guilty face. "I really do like to play with Thranduil and Ecthelion. And I just know they will keep calling me Nerwen."

"And if they like to play with you, they shall call you Artanis," I reasoned.

Artanis appeared to like the solution I found, and the rest of the meal was much more cheerful. It was when I arrived at her home with her later that my day truly became the sort of day you forever remember.

"Aegnor, are you parents within?" I asked, coming up the path around the gate of the large house. The young one shook his head and looked at his sister oddly.

"You have returned. And clean," he said, with a great amount of surprise.

Nerwen would have stuck her tongue out at him, but Artanis inclined her head. "How else was I to return?"

"Artanis has had a long and busy day. I shall return to speak with your parents later," I turned to leave, but was halted by Angrod, whom I had not seen in the yard.

Angrod studied me severely. "Nerwen, go into the house."

"My name is not Ner--"

"Into the house!"

Artanis stepped back in fear of the change in her brother's voice and hurried up the steps into the house as Aegnor called for their other brothers.

Now, Aegnor and Angrod were both quite formidable elves, and not the type I would have wanted to anger. However, if ever I had, I know I could have bested either, and put up quite a fight if faced with both, inseparable as they were. Orodreth would have been a challenge, and quite honestly, there were few who were a match for Finrod. To be blatantly honest, when all four of them surrounded me, I feared for my very life. What I had done I knew not, but assumed I would be told.

"I have not heard the name of Artanis in many a year," said Angrod to his brothers, "and yet I have heard it now today."

Orodreth seemed to look the friendliest of the brothers at the moment, and so I thought I had better face him to my give explanation. When I had finished, it was Finrod who took charge of the situation.

"Did you suggest her name change or did she?"

"It was my doing," I admitted.

"Do you know of the prophecy placed upon our sister?"

"No," I answered honestly. I was not much for the prophecies, though I knew that many took a great interest in them and lived their lives in tandem with them.

"Neither does she. It is said that there is an elf who will rename her. When he renames her, she will have found the other half of her soul, though she will not realize it at first because of her age, she will come to know it in time." Finrod crossed his arms and considered me, looking me up and down and making me rather uncomfortable. "Well, all I can say is, at least it was not Thranduil. Or Ecthelion, for that matter - I was beginning to worry!"

This seemed to be the general consensus among them, and after I was asked not to say anything to their sister of this, and after I was embraced by each of them, I walked home. I walked rather slowly, sorting out my thoughts. Things did not make sense, and yet they seemed to. And one word kept repeating in my mind.

Artanis.


	3. Artanis

I kept my distance as the young elleth grew, and courted her as was proper when she came of age. When I first approached Artanis about bonding years later, she giggled like the maiden she was, but I assured her it was not for the pleasures of the flesh that I asked such a thing. I truly and completely grew to love her. Her brothers were protective of her, but I became possessive. Eventually, she agreed to live in my home, to rest in my bed, and to curl around my body as we relaxed beneath the soft blankets.

That was the extent of our 'practice marriage', as Cirdan called it. "She is too young. She is too fickle. She is too dangerous. She is going to break your heart." I shook my head at his words until one night changed everything. I should have seen it coming. How could she be content, forevermore, beneath the roof of a farmer with little more than trees and flowers to his name? I could not give her a city, nor a palace or any great wealth.

All I could give her was love.

So many times I traced my fingers over the delicate features of her face as we lay in the darkness of our room, but that night, I recalled every detail of it. As my fingers reached her mouth I paused, for she kissed the tip of each as I led them to her lips. My smile widened lazily, my hands moving beneath her chin to stroke her throat until her eyes closed. I memorized each moment of it, not knowing it would be the last time I would ever touch this lovely vision before me in this manner.

"Mmm… Artanis…" I brought my own mouth to her neck, tasting all I could. There was a shift as I let my hands travel across her silky skin, and I did not take it to mean anything until I spoke once more. "Love you, Artanis…"

Abruptly she slid away, rising from the bed. I watched with confusion as she took hold of her robe from the bedpost and continued through the open door that led to the upper porch. I waited for a few moments and called out for her, but there was no answer. Throwing off the blanket, I followed her outside, pulling on a pair of leggings in the doorway. "Artanis?" She was sitting on the bench, the robe around her body but still revealing. "My love, please, tell me your thoughts."

"I keep thinking of that name that little one called me."

"What name was that?" I asked, but I knew. She knew I knew.

"Alatariel," she said, looking toward the East.

I pretended to be indifferent as I sat down beside her, sliding an arm around her waist, but there was disapproval written on my face, and she knew it.

"I think it would be a good name for a queen," she finally said.

My stomach knotted. "What of the name Queen Artanis?"

Artanis raised her head a little higher. "Queen Artanis sounds like the kind of queen who stays at home and minds the maids. I need a stronger name, a more powerful name."

"What about Nerwen?" I asked dryly. Artanis scowled and stood up, moving to the railing of the back porch.

"No, that is not a name to fear."

"Fear?" I choked on the word, and stood, but did not make a move to reach her. "Why do you wish to be feared?" I whispered.

She stood with her hands on the edge of the rail, looking out over the horizon, not answering my question. "I have a great desire to leave this place and go to the East."

"To the East? Leave Valinor? But why?"

"I can not stay here. I have such wants that cannot be fulfilled on these shores. Such a will to found a land of my own, and to rule a great city. I have gone as far as I can here in Valinor. It is stifling me. There is nothing left for me here."

It was in that moment that she looked both beautiful and terrible, both loved and feared, and I trembled to see her standing before me. If she had torn my heart from my chest, the pain would not have been greater than what I felt. "And if you leave," I said softly, "there is nothing left for me here."

"You would come with me," she said.

"And be consort to the queen."

"No… and be my counsel."

"But not your equal," I accused. 'Not even your lover,' I thought, because I knew. As she stood there, I already knew it was over. It had been over. I had only been too blinded to see, it had never really been.

She did not make reply, for I do not think she could bring herself to lie to me. "Erestor, you are wise beyond this world. You have a purpose greater than harvesting apples and picking berries. My brothers and I have had discussion about leaving here - they and their spouses and lovers would slip away secretly in the night. I would have you come with me."

"Are you mad?" I hissed. "What you speak of is against the will of the Valar!"

"The Valar will not miss a dozen stray elves!"

"A dozen? I count only ten."

"We can not expect Finrod and Orodreth to leave their sons here."

I shook my head. "Gildor and Halmir are but children, they should be left here, not to be cursed by the fate you are choosing for them."

"What am I to do?" Artanis turned, her eyes flashing in anger. "I am not destined for this. I can feel it. I know it. I will not remain here, imprisoned on an island that suffocates me, as a-" She bit her tongue upon seeing my face.

"As the wife of a farmer," I said bitterly.

"Erestor, I am offering you a chance to be greater than you ever could be here. There is opportunity for me across that sea," she said, pointing far off on the horizon. "I can offer you adventure and power. I can offer you freedom from this place. I can offer you true immortality - not what the Valar give us. Why live forever if no one remembers your name? Come, Erestor. Join me."

Sadly, I joined her at the railing, placing my hand shakily upon her cheek. Although my lips were quivering, I met hers in a deep and passionate kiss, and drew back, shaking my head. "I cannot," I said, stroking the sides of her face. I ran my fingers through her hair one final time, kissing her upon the brow as I held back my emotions best I could. "I cannot leave. Please, you do not have to go."

"Erestor, I do have to go." I read the confusion in her eyes as she asked, "What is there here for me? What can you give me that I cannot find across the sea?"

All I could give her was love. Love, it appeared, was not enough. I had no words left for her, save for one final plea. "Stay," I begged, gripping her hand in mine. The tears rolled down my cheeks before she had even left the balcony, and I sunk to the ground, cold and helpless, and frightened of what was to come.


	4. Irmo

"If you really want to kill yourself, Eresse, this is not the way to do it."

That voice was new to me, and I panted, gasping for breath. "How do you know… that is what… I am trying… trying… to do…"

"Just as stubborn as always," replied the voice, no more than a whisper. "You are your father's son."

And before I could open my eyes to see who was speaking, darkness swiftly came upon me, and then silence.


	5. Orome

The taste of my mouth was bitter and my tongue was dry when I next awoke. I was tucked firmly in my bed, drenched with sweat. The sheets I am sure had to be soaked, but it seemed someone was tending carefully to me and changing them as needed.

Breathing was easier now. Obviously, I had not taken enough poison to do the trick. I thought I had. I drank it all, and not just one, but three different kinds. I should have been dead.

"Poison will not kill you," came a voice not unlike my own.

Artanis had left years ago, how long I could not quite remember. She had believed her brothers were as set on leaving Valinor as she was, but this was not so. Some days it seemed her uncle, the great and crafty Feanor might try to lead a group back across the sea. I cared not, my love for her, now unrequited, turned me to seek knowledge instead.

I still spent time farming and tending to the garden, but the time I spent was less and less. I knew of at least one who had taken note and held concern for my sudden change - the young elf named Thranduil, who once trampled my flowerbeds now made up for it by planting them anew when I shut myself into the house for the day to think and to read, or when my depressive states were particularly bad and I never made it out of bed. He never formally came to tell me he was the one doing it, but enough times I had caught a glimpse of him leaving quickly as I came out of doors to know it was he.

It was not his voice that I heard now, for it was much too deep for it to be him. Cirdan, perhaps, but I would have assumed it would have been Nenua and not her husband who would have come to tend to me, but then, how could they have known of what I attempted, and would they not have been shamed by it?

"They worry for you all the same."

The voice was annoying me now, for I could not see where it came from, nor who it came from, and began to think it was in my head.

"Then who put you to bed?" it laughed.

I struggled to get up, but it was no use, for I was tightly wrapped and too weak to move. Nor could I speak, I found, as I began to make strained noises that in no way resembled speech.

That is when I saw him. Out from the shadows he came, soundless. Elves are not soundless as one might think - they can be quiet, they can suppress most noises they make, but they cannot achieve a state of perfect silence. They only think they can. He was perfectly silent, and it was deafening. His hand moved to touch my throat, and I found I could talk again, and fully recognized him now. "Lord Orome," I said, fitful that I was unable to bow to him in my condition.

I knew him well, from the journey to Valinor when I was an elfling. He was unforgettable, and most kind to me on every occasion. Though many spoke of his wrath I never saw such a thing. He leaned over me now, his hands moving to my forehead. He pressed down, and I felt a cooling sensation throughout my body. "You will need to endure the fever. You must sweat the poison from your blood."

"I should be dead."

"Yes." The hunter replied. "But not from the poison."

"I took enough."

"For an elf." Lord Orome removed the blanket and sheet, replacing the sheet with one that was fresh and dry, then tucked the blanket back over me again. "You are named well, for truly, you are stubborn."

"There was someone before who told me I was as stubborn as my father. Was that you?"

Lord Orome shook his head, and another voice chuckled. "That was me," it said. "You would not wake, and we worried what to do. I had to try to find you in your dreams."

"Irmo," I whispered, closing my eyes as I felt the heat of fever once again.

"Aye."

I fell silent, thinking perhaps this was all a dream or that perhaps I was dead. Lord Irmo chuckled again. "Oh, he is a stubborn one," he agreed. "The Valar make a statement, and he is immediately skeptical." Lord Orome made a noise of discontent, silencing Irmo's laughter. "So much like his father," he repeated.

"My father is not stubborn," I finally corrected, shifting my sight to the side of the room that I could hear Irmo speaking. His peaceful mirth suddenly changed to show a mystified look as Orome turned to him. I was unable to see Orome's expression, or understand what communication transpired between them, for certainly, there was something.

"Orome," was all Irmo finally said that I heard, and it was cautionary.

"Irmo. He is awake. I no longer require your assistance."

"Ah. Then I am done here." Irmo simply left by means unseen to me and I was left with Lord Orome. He took from the bedside table a cloth that had been in a bowl of water and wrung it out before wiping my brow. The experience was one of the strangest, and in some part I still believed it must be a dream, or that my mind was so clouded by the poison within me that I conjured such things on my own. "Why should I be dead?" I finally asked.

"You should be dead because you fell from your balcony and landed on a very hard patch of ground. You do not recall it, for your mind was too clouded with the poisons you gave yourself," explained Lord Orome. "I spoke with Namo, and along with others, we agreed you should not be in the halls."

My head swam with bits and pieces of new information, most of which seemed too fantastic to comprehend. "What difference does it make whether I live or die?"

Lord Orome lowered his chin solemnly. "Too many have been slain these past days."

"Slain?" Only now did I finally realize that death could come to Valinor, though I myself had tried to end my life. I panicked a little - only now was death a reality. And slain. Slain did not seem like the quiet death I had attempted. Slain. I shivered despite the heat of the fever.

Perhaps it is now you think that Lord Orome speaks of the flight of the Noldor, the slaying of kin on the white ships. This was not the case, as it had yet to happen. My attempt at suicide predated that horrendous act, and also the banishment of Feanor. 

I had little to live for, or so I believed, when Artanis left my house. Few things made me happy, but the light of the two trees would bring such joy to my heart that I could not help but to be gladdened by it in some small way. It was when the darkness came to Valinor that the darkness overtook my heart, and I gathered from my garden what plants I could find in the mist that would bring to me a swift end, and concocted a draught so sinister that had I been a full-blooded elf, I most surely would have been dead.

"King Finwe has been killed, brought down by the hand of Melkor - Morgoth as he has been named by Fëanáro."

"How many others have been slain?"

Lord Orome was silent for some time before answering, "Even one is too many." He felt his hand to my head, and I came to note the fever diminishing. "By the grace of the Valar, you have been spared, for there are dark tidings to be brought to Fëanáro, and none of the Valar could decide which was to deliver the news. Your life is given back to you in exchange for your service."

"What can I possibly do? How can I be of service to the Valar?"

The Vala smiled and placed his palm atop my head. "One of the Valar must deliver a message of banishment to Fëanáro, as is the will of Manwe. My horse is swift, and you must ride quickly to catch the host of the Noldor before they reach the sea."

"But one of the Valar must deliver the message. Do I ride with you?"

"My son, you ride alone."


	6. Messenger of Manwe

_"Against the folly of Feanor shall be set my counsel only. Go not forth! For the hour is evil, and your road leads to sorrow that ye do not foresee."_  
  
My eyes searched those gathered for her. I knew she was here. I did not need to be told she was, for I knew it was her wont for many a year to leave, but that her brothers were not as set in those past years as she had led me to believe. Now, however, I noted the banners of the house of Finarfin and Fingolfin and knew they were all here.  Every child who had ever played in my yard, save Thranduil, stood below me now, dressed for battle, with fire in their hearts and uncertainty in their eyes.  
  
_"No aid will the Valar lend you in this quest; but neither will they hinder you; for this ye shall know: as ye came hither freely, freely shall ye depart."_  
  
For long I had believed the deeds of Feanor would be punished by the Valar, and yet my heart ached with the words I spoke next. Still weakened from my own foolishness, I turned now to the leader of the host, one whom I counted as a friend since our childhood.  One whose sons I had held upon the days of their births.  One who knew my voice, and I spoke clearly to him alone and said, _"But thou Fëanáro Finwe's son, by thine oath art exiled. The lies of Melkor thou shalt unlearn in bitterness. Vala he is, thou saist. Then thou hast sworn in vain, for none of the Valar canst thou overcome now or ever within the halls of Ea, not though Eru whom thou namest had made thee thrice greater than thou art."_  
  
It was not I he answered to. Instead he turned his gaze to those in his company. I had seen the shock in his eyes, but that was gone now as he looked upon those who had followed him. As he spoke, I thought I would retch at the sight of so many I had known standing with banners held high, armed as well, and some brought with them their wives and their children.  
  
My own parents were there, or my mother at least. How long and why I had been deceived I did not know. I shuddered and trembled as I rode to this place - not only was I scared to ride upon Nahar for never had I been on a horse before, but I had a great fear within me. A fear of myself. So long I had not known what I was, and now though I should feel no different, I did.  
  
There was a word for it I would learn years later. Peredhel. But nearly all of the peredhil I would meet would be from the unions of elf and mankind. The circumstances of my birth vastly differed from any of theirs, and only with Luthien would I ever feel some sort of kinship.  
  
Awakened by the river Cuivienen, the Eldar were matched evenly. For each and every elf there was an elleth. Some woke next to their spouse and knew their destiny with each other immediately - my mother and father were among those. Others would find their love when the three hosts came to Valimar. Cirdan, a Teleri, did not realize he was fated to be with Nenua, a Vanya, until he reached the beaches and found her collecting seashells. I am sure she was on the beach collecting shells when he returned to her from his long time spent across the sea, and ever faithful were they to one another.  
  
Though my parents loved one another, there always seemed something odd about them, something it had taken me until now to see. I had seen it, in fact, and it had taken riddles from a Vala for me to admit it.  
  
As Feanor looked to me once again, smiling at the cheers from his host, I looked one final time upon my parents. My mother's long blonde locks were pulled back at her neck, and she had a bow raised over her head as she shouted with the rest of the Noldor. My father, who I now realized was not my father, had his golden mane plaited behind him, and with his sword and shield looked ready for some terrible war. It was impossible that I, so tall and dark, could be the result of their union. I had so many questions for them, and yet each remains unanswered.  
  
I wondered how many had known, how many had clearly seen that I simply could not have been the product of the two pale elves I now looked away from lest I become sick at the sight. Feanor waited my answer to what he had spoken to me, and I dumbly bowed to him, unthinking of my actions as I rode away.


	7. Manwe Sulimo

I was not prepared for the experience that awaited me when I delivered the message. I had seen the Valar - everyone had - though not at such length, or so close, or so many of them in one place. All eyes in the room trained upon me as I recited the words Feanor had said first to the host and then to me.

"And you bowed to him?" interrupted Manwe from his throne.

"I… yes, I did, but from atop Nahar. It was… I was taking my leave of him, and I thought, well, he is the King of the Noldor now, and I am a Noldor, so--"

"You will not bow to him again," Manwe said. "You have but one King, Eresse, and it is not Fëanáro."

"He is cursed and he is banned," spoke Tulkas. "He is not king as he seems to think. Let me stop them," he said, to Manwe now, who held up his hand and shook his head.

"No. Let them go forth. If they wish to walk to Middle-earth, so be it. They will take one look at the ice of Helcaraxe, and that will be the end."

No one spoke for some time, and so I turned to Orome, whom I stood next to and asked, "What of Fëanáro? He has been thrown out."

Orome smiled sadly and said, "Manwe would not decree such a thing, so loved is Fëanáro, though he is a troublesome child. He must understand and be punished, though. Yes, he has those who will follow him, but they will only follow so far. Some oaths should be broken, and pride swallowed when the deed is done. All will be well in time," he finished. For some reason, I was not as certain as he was.

"Enough talk, until they return," Manwe said, and he seemed so very certain, too, that Fëanáro and his host would come to him to ask forgiveness and walk once more upon the shores of Aman. As I pondered this and my doubts of it, I suddenly came to realize I was being watched by every other pair of eyes in the hall. "Orome, it seems you brought to us a souvenir of your time spent with the Eldar?" Laughter echoed through the hall, and I could not help the hurt look that came onto my face. "Child, do not be angered by my words. Come and sit with me," he said, waving his hand to a spot on the stairs surrounding his throne.

Something that is not written about, or spoken much of, are the children of Eru's children. Nearly all of the Valar had a son or daughter, and sometimes both or more. Orome gave me a nudge at the small of my back and whispered, "He has a great love of the young ones. All of our children he bids sit with him when they are here, and he tells them the secrets he knows, and teaches them of the sky and the storms and the birds and such. He is a marvelous storyteller and a glorious singer."

And so, for one brief day, I knelt before the king of Valinor and sat down at his feet and watched my cousins play games on the steps, and listened to them sing and play their harps. I did not know their names, nor did they ask for mine, but I felt like a child again and fell asleep peacefully for the first time in many years, nestled in some strange softness that I swear to this day must have been a cloud.


	8. Fëanáro

_"Tears unnumbered ye shall shed; and the Valar will fence Valinor against you, and shut you out, so that not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains. On the House of Feanor the wrath of the Valar lieth from the West unto the uttermost East, and upon all that will follow them it shall be laid also. Their Oath shall drive them, and yet betray them, and ever snatch away the very treasures that they have sworn to pursue. To evil end shall all things turn that they begin well; and by treason of kin unto kin, and the fear of treason, shall this come to pass. The Dispossessed shall they be for ever.  
  
Ye have spilled the blood of your kindred unrighteously and have stained the land of Aman. For blood ye shall render blood, and beyond Aman ye shall dwell in Death's shadow. For though Eru appointed to you to die not in Ea, and no sickness may assail you, yet slain ye may be, and slain ye shall be: by weapon and by torment and by grief; and your houseless spirits shall come them to Mandos. There long shall ye abide and yearn for your bodies, and find little pity though all whom ye have slain should entreat for you. And those that endure in Middle-earth and come not to Mandos shall grow weary of the world as with a great burden, and shall wane, and become as shadows of regret before the younger race that cometh after. The Valar have spoken."_  
  
\--- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
I woke to fear and anguish, and fury. Manwe was not upon his throne as I looked up, and the others had scattered. Some were pacing, some were conversing to one another in ways I could not understand. Tulkas was closest to me - standing against a wall, staring across the room and heaving his great shoulders as his wife stood at his side and attempted to soothe him with her words whispered in his ear. Something told me this was the only thing keeping him from stalking out of the hall, but why?  
  
I got to my feet, finding I had been abandoned upon the steps, and looked about nervously for Orome as I walked through the room. I did not dare presume I could speak to any of them who had not spoken with me, so when I could not find my father, I looked for another. "Irmo," I said, and immediately cringed, for my voice sounded like the scraping of rocks on glass compared to the fair way in which they spoke to one another. "What is the matter?" I asked, trying to make my words as liquid as possible.  
  
"So many dreams shattered… so many lives lost…" He shook his head, and tears freely fell from his eyes into rainbow pools on the floor. "I do not understand. Why do they want so badly to leave?"  
  
"Power… land… though, honestly, I do not understand it either," I admitted. "Have they gone to cross the ice, then?"  
  
He looked up at me, and in those eyes, I saw his pity for them, but I saw his anger as well. He spread out his arms and said, "Come, child, I will tell you, your father may be gone for some time, and he would want you to know."  
  
I was hesitant at first, not really wanting to know what could be worse than so many of my kin crossing the frozen sea to their deaths, but I knelt down beside him and he placed his arms around me. In a soft voice he told me what had happened, in the language they speak, but I understood every word of it. And I cried as he held me, and my heart broke when he gave their names, of those killed on either side. Among them were my parents, and I sobbed greater than I had ever before, and my tears fell into the pools on the floor, turning them black as ink.  
  
Then was the list of kinslayers, and I could cry no more, for the same anger within him rose up in my breast as well. The last name he withheld, but he did not need speak it, for I knew what she had done. I knew, and I hated her actions, but I could never hate her.  
  
I wanted to sleep, to discover this was a dream, but Manwe entered the hall at last, and with him his wife, my father, and a handful of others. He took up his throne, and as the blue fabric of his cloak settled upon the floor, he said, "It has been written." There were murmurs throughout the room, and Irmo hung his head.  
  
"What is written?" I asked.  
  
Raising his head proudly, tears gone from his cheeks, Irmo answered in a strained voice, "The Curse of the Noldor, they have named it. It was to be the lords and queens who wrote it, but some of us still had not the heart to condemn them. Or, in some cases," he said as his gaze crossed the room to Tulkas, "some thought it not harsh enough. Now it only needs to be delivered. Manwe worries; he does not call for a messenger, for he does not know if they will go beyond what is required of them. He wishes Namo were here, for he does not question Manwe's directions, but he is busy now in his halls. I doubt he thought there would ever be need for the Eldar to dwell within them."  
  
"I should go," I said as I watched Manwe's eyes scan those in the room, perhaps trying to choose.  
  
Irmo opened his arms once more, and I stood. Once more I felt the eyes of them all upon me as I walked to the steps of Manwe's throne and knelt before him. When I looked up, I said, "I will not bow to him this time."  
  
Manwe's head moved down and up again once in a very slow manner, so that I was not sure if this was his answer or not. He motioned I should stand as he stood, and then embraced me, and whispered into my ear the message I was to deliver. Once again, he wavered, for he added that if any should come to regret what they had done and wished to return, be it even Feanor himself, with open arms they would be welcomed back into the hall of Manwe.  
  
My steps were slow as I left the hall, and came into the darkness that was outside. My father was there, as was Nahar, who was to take me to them. There was a dark cloak Orome had for me as well, to disguise me from the host, and I drew it hastily over my shoulders. He said nothing as he helped me to mount, and I was still unsure of myself upon the great steed's back, but Nahar was gentle and knew where to travel, and gave me much time to think as we rode swiftly to find the host.  
  
Indeed, as Manwe had either hoped or expected, some faltered and came back after I proclaimed their doom. Behind me they walked, heads bowed, and I did not look to see who was among them, for I knew she would not be there. I did not acknowledge Feanor as he spoke, did not show him the respect due a king, and I could feel his eyes angry against my back as I led those few who returned. He did not call out with his voice, for I believe he had some fear that by doing so, he might have lost more of his followers if they knew it was one of their own who came to deliver this message. If they knew, as they thought they knew me, that it was the son of Tata who led them away and on a road to redemption.  Even with the hood drawn over my face, even with the darkened sky, he knew who had come.  
  
 _ **'Eresse'**_  
  
 _'Get out of my mind'_  
  
 _ **'Do not go - do not let them make a puppet of you'**_ and then **_'Join us'_**  
  
I did not answer.  
  
 _ **'I am your king'**_  
  
 _'Not anymore'_


	9. Namo

I came into the great hall before Manwe and bowed low as I could until he bid me stand. Though others I have served in the many long years of my life, ever since that day it is Manwe who has been my king. I stood then to present those who had returned, and pardon was given to them. There before him they stayed knelt upon the ground with heads bowed in remorse of what they had done, and it was a grief to me to see such noble elves in such a shameful way. It was then that I began to say what I had been told by Feanor, and as I came to tell him the answers, Manwe wept and bowed his head.  
  
Fearing I might waver at the sight, I continued swiftly to give the reply of Feanor, and when at last came to what he said of songs, Manwe's head rose and he began to declare that such songs should be sung and remembered, but at a great cost. It was silent then, and Namo spoke.  
  
 _"And yet remain evil,"_ said he, and all listened, for his words I soon learned were few and yet true he always spoke. _"To me shall Fëanáro come soon."_  
  
How soon he did not say, but when pressed by his brother Irmo, he added to his prophecy, "Within my halls shall dwell the sons of Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë, one day forevermore."  
  
"What of the daughters?" I heard myself ask, my entire body numb by the words I heard.  
  
The piercing eyes of Mandos fell upon me, and he answered by saying, "Did they not slay kin as well?"  
  
A cry escaped from the lips of Eärwen, who was upon her knees beside her husband. He then took to comforting her, but her grief was nearly more than he could bear. Though my heart was broken already, I felt as if it bled once more to behold that sight.  
  
I do not recall how I came to be on my knees before him, but my next words were a plea, heard by all within the hall. I put her before my pride, and before my very life. "Do not take her soul, do not keep it locked away. She is beautiful, and full of life and promise. When it is time for her, take my soul instead, that she may have her chance as she wished it."  
  
Namo stooped so that we faced one another and took hold of my arm, and I his. "You need not bow to speak to me," he said for my ears only, and then to all, "It is not a decision for me to make on my own, but for those in council to debate. If it was my choice, I would grant your request, but the oath they have bound themselves to be not one that will be placed aside, and I fear she would be a danger if she were allowed to remain."  
  
"She took no oath," spoke Irmo. "In her dreams, she has no desire of the light stolen, or of fighting such enemies as have fled from us. Her plans would take her upon a path separate from the others once she has crossed the Helcaraxe, if in fact she survives."  
  
Mandos took up my gaze and held it for some time. "Will she survive?" I asked.  
  
His answer was a question. "Do you love her that much that you would give all you have for her? Your soul, as you have said?"  
  
"I would do it this moment if you asked it of me."  
  
Placing his hand upon my head as Lord Orome had before, he closed his eyes. "You tell the truth with your words." His eyes opened, and he took with his other hand my other arm. "She would have been reborn, for she did not take the oath."  
  
"She does not deserve death," I begged.  
  
"Does anyone, truly?" Namo was not expecting an answer to this it seemed, and received none, and said, "I cannot take what is not mine to hold eternally in my halls. However, as she will not return to Valinor as soon as she was expected, there is a task before you if the council is to grant this request you ask. Her soul is yet complete. She will need to be united with her mate, for is it correct that I assume she is still cursed not to cross the sea?"  
  
All looked to Manwe, still with his head bowed in grief. "For now," he said quietly.  
  
"You are asking me to leave Valinor and take to her the true love of her life." I did not delay in my decision. "When should I depart?"  
  
One hand he put upon his breast and said to me, "Moved I am by your words and your sincerity. If it is granted that this be your fate, I would offer a gift to you for your loyalty to her."  
  
"There seems no reason the elf that is to be with her should suffer her departure," spoke Manwe softly from his throne. He looked up, surveying the group who had turned back, before settling his gaze on me. "Enough suffering has there been, let happiness be found for those who can manage such a thing." There was no disagreement and Namo nodded his head to Manwe.  
  
Once more, Namo addressed me. "Your love for her exceeds the love she has for him, or even the love he will have for her." Namo's hand was pressed to my own chest and he said, "You are whole, and strong in your own right, but I would offer to you one who would love you equal to your love of her. One you will grow to love greater than you have loved another."  
  
"How could I ever love another?"  
  
Mandos, I believe, smiled. It was difficult to tell, for he still remained so serious. "Because you want to love another. You still hope to find a companion." I gave no answer, for I know he knew it was the truth. "You offered your soul for her. I will… borrow… a part of your fea, to be given to the one who will love you without question and worship you as you deserve." I felt something suddenly pull away from me - something I longed to keep. "Let go." The command was given and I felt my body relax. A sudden dizziness overcame me, but Namo kept me steady.  
  
Leaning closer, he whispered so no other could hear. "On the night you finally learn to accept the one you are now destined to be with, you will be called by the name your father gifted with upon your birth."  
  
"I have another name?" There was a mixture of emotion as I said this, for I was shocked at such a revelation, a little angry it had never been told to me, and generally overwhelmed by all that had recently happened. "What is my name?"  
  
"When you hear it, you will know. You will not accept it at first, either, but you will be persuaded to." Namo said nothing more when I thanked him, nor when I told him farewell as I departed to prepare for the voyage ahead of us. At the time I thought perhaps I had offended him, but it was later that I realized he had no one to share his grief with, and of all the Valar, I believe when he is hidden in the shadows he weeps the greatest of them all.


	10. Galadriel

"I am not about to be left here while you go who knows where."

Rubbing my temples in exasperation, I sighed and said, "Thranduil, I appreciate your concern, but you are meant to stay here. There is danger on the other side of this sea."

"There is danger here as well," he argued. "Melkor destroyed the trees! Behind the backs of the Valar, beneath our noses! Here! What can be more dangerous than that?"

Already I had numerous elves who would not be left behind. Cirdan was the first, as I needed a ship. With all of the ships taken by the host, a new ship would need to be built. It would still be years before we departed - with so many lost he had to build nearly all of it himself - but preparations for our voyage needed to be made. After him others followed, for reasons of their own. It seemed that the Valar were more lenient with the Teleri who demanded passage on the ship, for it seemed there was an unspoken agreement that they did not depart with the intention of leaving, but with the intention of returning. "Your father will not allow this," I tried, but there was a triumphant smile upon Thranduil's face.

"He said we would go together," was the reply.

"That is not possible," I apologized. "I am running out of room on this ship, and there are others I still need to take with me."

"He said he could help you with that, too." Thranduil must have noted the sudden interest I had in what he was saying as he continued, "Grant us passage with you across the sea, and I will not even ask why it is so important my cousin be on your vessel. In return, I can promise you he, accompanied by his parents and brother, will be on the ship when we sail."

My expression could have easily been read, yet still I hissed, "His parents and brother? Thranduil, the ship cannot hold us all! Already, I have three more than I anticipated."

"Perhaps we will need more than one ship, then," suggested Thranduil, adding, "'Tis unsafe to travel across such a wide expanse in only one vessel. Three would be much safer."

I do not recall how long I stared at him, but in my heart, I knew it was the only way I would succeed. The youngest son of Lhunerin and Galadhon had yet to reach his majority and I was not about to kidnap him and risk another war. Though Lhunerin was married to Galadhon for many long years, she still remained close to her brother Oropher, chief of the House of the Green Leaf. No amount of persuasion on my part would convince her to tell her husband that their youngest son was to sail across the sea; however, the slightest mention of such plans by her brother would cause her to pack that very night.

\--- --- --- --- --- ---

Things moved quickly after that. Two ships were built, and while I sailed on one steered by Cirdan, Oropher took command of the other. My first thought when we reached the shore was to seek her out, but I did not wish to face her again so soon. I also remembered quickly just how great the expanse was, and did not know where to begin to search for her. Those of us who came across the sea settled for the most part in Doriath. My life there was simple to start and I favored scribal work, and for a while I was almost content though my task weighed heavily upon my mind. In time she came to Doriath, as I somehow knew she would.

It was an ordinary day like any other as I came up the stairway into the Great Hall. Introductions were being made between members of the kingdom and a fair elleth whose face was shrouded from me by her hood. I knew, not from knowing her, but from knowing the look I saw in the eyes of Celeborn who she was. I turned and gripped the wall, clutching my chest as I closed my eyes. Moments later I heard the name he said to her as once I had heard it in Valinor and the light laughter that came from her lips. I fled around the corner, gasping for air and feeling a chill through my soul. I had always known that this moment would come, but for me to finally let her go was more difficult than I ever could have imagined.

When I thought I was finally ready to face her I came back around the corner, not knowing how long I had hidden myself. The room had emptied, save two figures talking and smiling at each other in the firelight. Her hood was down and her cheeks flushed as she smiled while he spoke with great enthusiasm, gesturing about as he explained whatever it is newfound and unknowing lovers explain to one another. I lingered a moment longer, long enough for her crystal blue gaze to fall upon me before exiting the hall and walking silently down the steps.

"Erestor."

I swayed upon my legs and grabbed for the rail. To hear her voice again after so very long brought me to tears, and I could not bear to turn and face her. I could hear her approach me, taking each step only after a pause, like a small child closing in on an injured creature in the forest. My pain grew with every step until I felt her hand upon my shoulder and realized I was sobbing and that she could clearly hear me.

"Erestor," she said again, her voice pleading. "Stay."

I said nothing as I continued on my way, hiding in the shadows to wipe my eyes. I asked for my leave from Doriath and for recommendations. I received both without question and had the latter with me when I stumbled into Gondolin without looking back. When I entered the hidden city and the gates locked behind me, I hoped to lock myself away from her just as she had locked me out of her heart.


	11. Glorfindel (Epilogue)

"Now why is that one not written down somewhere like the rest?" asked Glorfindel. Erestor shrugged and scratched his arm. "I suppose it is rather personal, but there is some important history to be found."

"What does it matter, really? All the rest are back in Valinor now, one way or another, and yet I remain. It is amusing, I suppose. I am the only one who never really wanted to come, still living on the mortal side of the sea," laughed Erestor.

Not knowing what to say, Glorfindel held Erestor tighter. They were on the couch, Glorfindel with his back against the cushions, and Erestor was upon his back as well, resting on Glorfindel's chest. It was a common thing on warm afternoons after lunch when there was no work and suppertime had yet to come, whether here in the study or outdoors in the gazebo. But now the sky was dark in the early morning hours, for Glorfindel had not said a word in all the time Erestor had told his story. "I am a little confused," the blonde admitted. "When I see her again, I am not sure if I should scold her for hurting you or hug her for letting you go." He nuzzled the sweet smelling dark mane that draped here and there. "I think I shall do both."

"No, she could not help it. It is not her fault."

"Can I ask why you did not tell me sooner? Not that I blame you, but-"

"Fin."

"Yes, Ress?"

Erestor smiled. "Exactly," he said, turning over so that he could snake his hands up over Glorfindel's shoulders. "When did you first think to call me that? You told me once that you had given it a lot of thought."

"In Mandos. When I was waiting. Obviously. What else was I doing there?" Glorfindel could not help but smile at the elf smiling at him, despite the memories that began to creep back of the loneliness of the halls. "I thought a lot about you, and then at some point, a thought that I am sure now was not mine entered my consciousness. It was so simple, and at the same time so complex, and I wanted to ask you about it. When I returned, you were so distant, so cold from what I remembered, I was afraid you would roll your eyes at me."

"I probably would have," Erestor admitted.

"And then it just slipped out that first night. I do not regret it, though. I think it is a perfect name for you." Erestor's continued grin unnerved Glorfindel a bit. "What? What did I say? What did I do? Wait - I know that look…" Glorfindel waggled his brows and Erestor rolled his eyes.

"No, no, I know what you are grinning about," laughed Glorfindel, pulling Erestor back when the dark elf made to leave the couch. "I think it is a perfect name for you, even if your father was really the one who came up with it. But that cannot be the only reason you waited to tell me this tale."

Swallowing hard, Erestor said, "No, I suppose it is not. I suppose I was afraid to tell anyone. It hurt so much, and I cannot lie to you - it still hurts, though, each day it is less and less. A part of me still fears it might happen again." Erestor gripped Glorfindel's shoulders and lowered his head down onto his lover's chest. "I still do not know how I survived it the first time, but I do not think I could survive such a thing again."

"You do not have to worry," assured Glorfindel, his arms protectively around Erestor. "You will never have to tell me to stay," he said, "because I am never going to leave you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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